


Enchanting Ghost

by g4t1t0



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Big Crushes, Big Gay Crushes, Credence Barebone Lives, Crushes, Happy Ending, Kissing, M/M, Obscurial Credence Barebone, Post-Canon, Work In Progress, credence Barebone Finds Love, credence barebone eats, just overall happy credence...., obscurial kissing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-18 07:45:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10612383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/g4t1t0/pseuds/g4t1t0
Summary: if it troubles you to breathe/wait a minute/i could change the sceneryCredence is alive, as much as he can be. He finds he fits in perfectly to Newt's constructed world, and is grateful for it. Newt is more than kind, shows Credence something he had never known. It's perfect this way, for both of them.But change is constant and relentless.





	1. Chapter 1

The first months pass by without incident, from what Credence can sense. They don't even feel like months, to be honest. His time is mostly spent seeping into whatever open space there is, filling it with the dense and cold mass that is his new body. 

There isn't much of him left, not after his last days in New York, and he knows it, but every time Newt comes down into the suitcase, he comments how well Credence is looking. 

“You look well.” He says, and though Credence doesn't appear to react, has no face to show, he sinks down, uses all his might to come into one piece. The mist grows heavier, that's for sure, but he can never seem to form together completely. Not since that day.

“I brought down some books for you. History, mostly. Don't have terrible use for them these days, but I figure you might like them.” Newt places a few leather bound texts onto the floor, next to the area Credence has made into a bed of some sort. “Hungry?” 

Credence rumbles, sinks down onto the floor near his caretaker's feet. 

“I brought some sweets. Special sweets.” He winks and sets a box on top of the books, opens it, showing beautiful golden pastries. Credence notices them as Mr. Kowalski's pastries. He swells into a pillar, the closest thing to a human shape he can manage, and reaches a tendril of mist to an occamy twist. It dissolves, decaying at quick rate.

“We're headed to India for a few days. I have some business there.” Newt reaches a sure hand out, letting Credence crawl up his fingers and wrist. “We'll arrive within the week.”

The obscurial rumbles once more, tries to understand the relevance of a week. It use to be so standard. Monday to Thursday for missionary work, Friday for meetings, Saturday for confession, and Sunday for mass.

It's a little less scheduled these days, save for Newt's visits, but he finds he really appreciates it. 

“You know how to get a hold of me if you need me, then.” Newt stands and Credence rises with him, enjoying his warmth and his company. He leaves a semblance of a kiss on Newt's cheek, though he's sure Newt can't tell that's what it is.

He smiles anyways and looks down sheepishly.

They part and Credence returns to his business, eats a few more sweets before starting on one of the books, gently blowing the pages over, as if by a small breeze.

The trip to India is without incident, as well. 

–

Credence's environment of choice is a warm grassland. The sun shines always, never swaying to rain or snow or cold. It's everything his world wasn't for a long time. He revels in the beauty that a magic sun can bring, that magic itself can bring. Alone in his thoughts, he wonders if love could be magic, something even he could possess and wield like a wand.

Maybe it is magic, and that's why his ma was unable to love him. And why Newt is so good at it.

Newt's heart is big, warm, all enveloping. There's room for truly everything, everyone, including Credence. Cold, severe, unlovable Credence. 

Credence is big, as well, but not in that way, not in a warm way. He is big, too big, a trembling, darting, dangerous thing. He takes up too much space and hurts too many people. Hurt too many people in the past, at least. Newt has told him that if he dwells on it too much it will make him sick.

Though he isn't sure what that might feel like, hasn't felt what it feels like to be in a human body for nearly a year, he doesn't want to worry Newt any more than he might already. How Newt may diagnose an illness in an obscurial cloud is beyond thought, but Credence doesn't doubt Newt can do absolutely anything, even the impossible.

Which is why he's sure Newt could love him, if he really really wanted to.

–

Time moves by in an abstract when you can't see the real sun, the real moon. Days and weeks are just theory. Night is after day and day is after night, and that is the only absolute. 

For once, Credence is happy to see a new day follow a night. He doesn't hope at the bottom of his heart for the world, his world, to end. He's happy living in this place- as if he is a delicate peony, plucked from a garden and pressed in between the pages of a forgotten book. 

–

Newt visits every day, at least once, to say hello, or talk, or anything really. Credence isn't sure why he feels the need to return to him so frequently, like maybe he's such a highly needy beast or something, but he's grateful. He likes Newt. A lot.

When the magic sun is low, casting a golden tone among the grassland habitat, Newt lays near the nest Credence has made himself between two trees. Not much is said, not usually, the magizoologist stuck in his thoughts, but it's such a peaceful quiet, unlike the tense, frigid quiet of the church.

The other animals interact with Newt, butting into him, licking him, showing him gratitude and affection, so it was only natural, Credence reasoned, that he do the same, seeing as verbally he was unable to express himself.

Newt sets down a plate on a tree trunk for Credence and lays down on his stomach.

“Evening, Credence.” He looks up to see the heavy cloud pour down the tree it had been wrapped around. “Stew again, I hope that's alright.” He smirks as the cloud draws near.

Of course it's alright, Credence is truly indebted to Newt for every meal every conversation. He pushes himself forward, winds around Newt's tanned forearms gently, not to scar them. A thank you, the best one he can parse.

“Quiet the day.” Newt stretches out his arm, bandaged. Credence curls around the wrap, interested, worried, but the smile on Newt's lips, like always, melts him into something akin to warm butter.

“It's on me, really. Perhaps I got a bit too close to some hungry ridgeback hatchlings.” He laughed and shook his head. 

“Don't worry too much,” he says as if he can tell that, yes, Credence is worried, but only slightly, or very.

The peaceful silence falls between them again and Credence takes the opportunity to slowly melt around Newt. He grazes his warm skin, brushes through his sun lightened locks. Once Newt's eyes are heavy, and his lids fall closed, the young obscurial takes some distance to look at his face. His honey eyelashes fan out just above his sun kissed and freckled cheeks, the visage framed by the slight, gentle angles of his jaw. Slightly, gently, Credence traces a ghost's finger over New't lips, and he can feel it, the warmth, the joy, everything Newt is.

He recedes away as Newt's eyes open, peering up into the mass before him. His eyes shine like stars as he smiles.

The peace of the dying day lulls on.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up in a body you're not entirely sure is yours.

Inside a violent storm, screams and shouts, cracks of lightning and roars of thunder, Credence knows there's more. Where fear and pain had lived inside him, something new dwells. While his body is a cage constructed of these old, hateful emotions, he finds a peace inside of himself, and acknowledges something bright, swelling.

It's a blessing and a curse, to know this.

That self awareness blooms, becomes a thorn stuck in his skin, a wound he cannot stop prodding and picking.

It's gaping now, that acute awareness, and only inflames like an infected wound when he feels that urge, that need, that sinful and swollen want. He had fought it before even in his human body, but it scrapes at him, rubs him raw from the inside out now.

Credence wants to touch Newt, he wants to grip the warm and callused hand and run a thumb over it, feel the grab of flesh against flesh. The sensation he feels in this body is all so cold and detached, a faint image of touch as if he's imagining something he's only ever read about. He wants to feel that warmth.

And oh- He wants to feel grass, he wants to feel sunlight, he wants to feel wind and fur and scales and skin, skin, skin.

He starts to notice even more- A pain emanating from his core and making all of him weak. It comes as a shock when he feels it first, and paralyzes him for only a second. Each time that surge of pain strikes him, it gets stronger and stronger.   
It scares him. The fear of death is alive and awake in the back of his head.

And Credence doesn't want to die. Not anymore.

The pain makes itself obvious, tells his brain it's in his leg, his back, his fingers. How can he place a pain that exists in a part of his body that doesn't?

–

One afternoon, the pain and the looming fear of it becomes too much for the obscurial's body, and he finds himself involuntarily sinking to the ground and going black.

He wakes up and it's dark. He wakes up and he's scared.

–

As Credence becomes more withdrawn, he begins hiding. He slips into small spaces, then into sleep. The darker the better, as light gives him headaches and frankly becomes too overwhelming for his new sensitivity. He stays hidden for several hours, only roused by Newt's voice or beasts trying to get into their respective living places.

It's not a great situation, and though he knows this, he also knows there's no way he can ask for help, and he's not sure he would even if he could. He's always been a silent sufferer, growing stronger in his reserve. Now, he feels as if he's only becoming weaker.

It all becomes too much though, and it only grows in intensity. The pain is somewhat like the pain he felt in his knees when he grew four inches in one year.

The idea of growing pains sounds ridiculous, though- He is all energy, all magic, at least from what he understands. No nerves or bones or muscles to feel the ache and stretch of puberty. 

Credence supposes there's an infinite amount of possibilities, but he can't seem to find even a single one. As the pain develops, he becomes more frightened, feels a familiar rush inside of him.

It's not on purpose when he destroys the trees around his usual resting spot, felling them with such force that they splinter.

It's not on purpose when he collides into the side of the shed, causing a collapsed wall.

It's not on purpose when he hurts Newt.

–

The day is serene and finds Credence sleeping near the fallen trees. He is roused by soft footsteps approaching him.

“Ah, there you are. Sunbathing?” Newt smiles and sits near Credence, but not too near.

“It's good to see you out. It's been quiet a week for you. Is something bothering you?” 

Credence lazily rolls over to Newt, settles next to him and winds around his waist and arms. He rests what could be his cheek onto Newt's shoulder and rumbles, but there is a strange property in his voice he doesn't recognize, or recognizes too well.

The touch seems to distract Newt, though, and he sighs, relived that Credence seems to be back to normal. The cool and slight pressure on his body is so welcomed, and he reaches a hand out to one of the spirals at his stomach.

Immediately, Credence jumps, expands so rapidly he sends Newt toppling backwards with such force he shouts. 

He felt Newt's touch, barely, but enough.

Credence collects into himself, hides from Newt, but can't hide, there's nowhere to hide and-

Newt pushes himself up from the ground, and looks towards the black mass before him. His arms are gray and chapped, similar to Mary Lou's face on that day...

And he looks right at Credence and smiles.

That smile makes him ache in a millions different ways.

“Credence,” Newt speaks slowly, “Are you listening Credence? Oh heaven's, look at you.” He laughs, and Credence feels sick. What happened?

“Stay there, let me see you.” Newt's eyes are sparkling as he crawls towards Credence, and that sick feeling grows. “Oh Credence how amazing. Can you say something?”

The question confuses him, he doesn't know how to even answer it. The urge to please Newt is so strong, he tries anyways.

He forces a noise out, and that familiar sound is there, but the feeling is so foreign, weird, the nausea catches up to him and he pukes out of his fully formed mouth.

Before he knows it, he is falling and tries to catch himself with hands, his hands, that he can see, bony, white, and plain as day.

He doesn't see much else after that. Just black.

–

Credence dreams. He dreams of being shot apart by wizards, scared of him, scared of the devil inside of him. He dreams that man is kind and can extend love to even the least worthy of souls, and he dreams that man can also hurt, abuse, and lie. 

He dreams of warmth, a song of alien birds and the drone of mysterious insects buzzing creating a canvas for a gentle voice to pain with colorful words like “brood” and “incubate” and “handsome”.

He dreams of death: A pain so intense he feels like he's being pulled apart, slowly and meticulously. He sees blood, though he's not sure who's it is. He sees pale hands, trembling, though he's not sure who they belong to.

He dreams of a funeral, the attendees something fantastical and miraculous, though impossible. Credence had spent his waking life reminding himself how no one would be there to see him be put into the ground. 

He dreams of a shout, something he can't hear, but that means to him a belief, a truth held so close that nothing could possibly break it.

He dreams of being dug up from his grave.

When he doesn't wake up from his dreams, a terrifying and paralyzing realization dawns on him.

–

 

The hours that follow are tense, at least for Newt.

He takes care to keep Credence as still as possible, as he's gotten sick in his sleep two more times already. He cleans him and checks his body for wounds, finding most of his flesh is chapped so badly it's fissured and bleeds in some places. Credence's body is... well, just that. A body. There are dips and arcs and bones and skin and it's the most beautiful thing Newt has seen in months.

The young man in his care breathes slowly, seems to be lucid, but only barely.

Newt notices tears clouding his vision. He reaches out to place his hand above Credence's heart. It pounds like it's fighting, and Newt smiles. The joy in his chest is a bit much to handle at this point. He tries to suck it up- He doesn't want to startle Credence.

“Credence, are you here? Can you hear me?” Newt speaks quietly, but the excitement in his voice isn't easily masked.

Credence's eyes are open, only slightly, like he's trying to stay awake after a long day. His lips twitch like he's about to speak, and Newt finds himself leaning forward, biting his lip, so eager to hear him.

Unsurprisingly, the room remains quiet, save for labored breaths and an occasional sniffle.

Hours later, Newt is still sitting by the bedside. He notes Credence's heart has finally slowed and his lungs are moving more evenly. His eyes are closed.

Before stepping away into the kitchen, Newt leans over the younger man. He rests his forehead against him, whispers a promise into his grown out raven locks.

He presses a kiss atop his head, then immediately gets to work in his makeshift apothecary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey im sorry this took a while for me to get up....i finished it last week but after rereading it several times it just felt wrong?? it was originally a bit darker but honestly thats not..what i want for these two? so this may be a bit rough, and maybe hard to read at points but i reworked it a fair amount because i just didnt feel right posting the original...and what do you know its 1k longer than the original ahhh
> 
> anyways thank you everyone whos reading and commenting and giving kudos you are all so kind and i love you all!!!! i hope u enjoy this chapter and thank you so much for reading....
> 
> u can contact me at [my tumblr](http://st4rw4r2.tumblr.com/) or here if it suits yr fancy...... thank u guys again!!!!!!! ah!!!

**Author's Note:**

> im sweating like a dog uploading this Im so scared of sharing fic but please enjoy this is going to be my first multi chapter fic Here... Feedback would be so appreciated!! 
> 
> this chapter is! just some background...a peek into the Life and Times of Credence and Newt
> 
> Send me asks/talk to me at [my tumblr](http://st4rw4r2.tumblr.com/) if you like! Thank you for reading you are all beautiful..


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